The Veilstrider had vanished.
The forest grew quiet again, as if even the trees had been holding their breath in its presence. But the tension didn't fully fade—it merely thinned into the air, trailing behind the beast like smoke.
Argolaith exhaled slowly and knelt beside the fire once more. The food had cooled slightly, but the scent still lingered—rich, savory, infused with rare herbs and war beast fat.
He set about finishing the meal with calm, focused hands. A few slices of sunroot here. Another dusting of night-salt there. The flames licked higher in excitement as if they, too, were hungry.
Kaelred watched with a furrowed brow. "We're going back to cooking?"
Argolaith nodded without looking up. "We still need to eat. And we're not turning away from good food because a talking forest god stopped by."
Thae'Zirak huffed. "That was not a god."
"Whatever it was," Kaelred muttered, "it made my spine itch."
Malakar spoke at last, gaze distant. "And yet… it respected you."
